


Band Geeks Do It With Rhythm

by sinnerforhire



Category: Lost
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-03
Updated: 2010-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:32:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinnerforhire/pseuds/sinnerforhire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hurley and Charlie discuss marching band uniforms, overenthusiastic girlfriends, and the endurance of human stupidity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Band Geeks Do It With Rhythm

**Author's Note:**

> This is set between "Tabula Rasa" and "Walkabout." The line about band uniforms and Marx brothers villains is from Drew Carey's _Dirty Jokes and Beer._ The scar-comparing scene is shamelessly stolen from _Jaws_ by way of _Chasing Amy_. And Hurley's second van story is based on something that one of my ex-boyfriends did once. That boy drives a tank for the U.S. Army now.

"So, you were in a band."

Charlie looked at him incredulously. "You really mean to tell me you never heard of Driveshaft?"

Hurley shrugged. "Sorry, dude."

"S'okay." Charlie twisted his silver ring around his finger and bit his lip as he tried to think of what to say next. "So, what did you do back home? Like, for fun?"

"Uh, nothing that exciting." Hurley sensed that Charlie wouldn't know too much about the finer points of Dungeons and Dragons or _Star Wars_ comic books, so he tried to think of something Charlie would connect with. "I was in a band once."

Charlie's eyes lit up. "Really? What did you play?"

"It was, um, marching band." Hurley looked down at the sand, regretting that he'd brought it up. He doubted the revelation would up his coolness factor with Charlie. "I played the trombone. And the tuba, for a year."

"Oh." Charlie nodded. "That's cool, mate."

"Yeah, right," Hurley scoffed. "You've seen marching band uniforms? Those polyester nightmares with the feathered hats that make everybody look like the evil dictators in Marx Brothers movies? 'Cool' and 'marching band' don't belong in the same dictionary, let alone the same sentence."

Charlie laughed. "Okay, I was being nice. But hey, it's all about the music, yeah?"

"Oh, yeah, dude. Totally." In truth, it was all about the flag girls and the majorettes. And the flute players. And a couple of the clarinets. And Katie McClellan, who had been drum major his senior year. And Miss Starkey, the student teacher...

His litany was interrupted by Charlie waving a hand in front of his face. "You still with me, Hurley?"

"What? Yeah, of course."

"What were you thinking about just now?"

"Uh...some friends."

Charlie grinned. "Friend friends or girlfriends?"

Hurley had to laugh. "Trombonists aren't exactly chick magnets. Not like rock stars."

"You're telling me you never had a girlfriend? Not one?"

"I didn't say that," Hurley responded a little too quickly.

"What was her name?"

Hurley wasn't quite quick enough on the draw to recognize the insult. "Erica Degerstrom," he replied, wincing.

"She break your heart?"

"My collarbone, actually." The answer slipped out before Hurley could stop it, and he knew it was futile to hope that Charlie wouldn't ask him to elaborate.

Charlie raised one eyebrow. "Do tell."

_Fuck._ "Do I have to?"

"Well, _now_ you do," answered Charlie, grinning. "I'm sure it's fascinating."

Hurley shook his head violently. "No, no, that's exactly what it's not."

"Oh, come on."

Hurley sighed, realizing Charlie wouldn't be dissuaded. "Okay, fine. But you have to tell me something equally embarrassing, then."

"Fine," Charlie agreed, a little too quickly.

"On the same topic."

Charlie snickered. "It's about sex, innit?" Hurley refused to meet his eyes. "Aw, man. Spill it."

"Fine." Hurley started fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. "We were in my van, right? And we were...doing it, in the back." He closed his eyes and for a second he was back on the beach in Santa Monica in his beloved van, the threadbare upholstery smelling of weed and French fries, the tye-dyed tapestry covering the back windows, the musty mattress he kept in place of a backseat squeaking like a trapped mouse. He could see Erica, her mousy brown hair tangled in the necklace he'd bought her for their first Valentine's Day, her pasty white breasts heaving in the dim light. She wasn't pretty and she was nearly as heavy as he was, but what she lacked in beauty she more than made up for in enthusiasm.

"She was kind of...um..."

"Rough?"

"That's one way of putting it." _Predatory_ was closer to the truth; she'd practically torn the hair off his chest during one particularly intense makeout session. "So she was on top of me, doing her thing, you know, and she pushed me up against the door. Only the lock was broken, so I had the handles tied together with rope-"

"-And the rope broke," Charlie finished for him.

"Yeah."

Charlie shook his head. "Love hurts, mate."

"Yeah, but it's not supposed to leave permanent scars." Hurley rubbed his shoulder, feeling the dent in the bone left by the fracture. "Your turn."

"You want to see something permanent?" Charlie lifted his shirt and indicated a heart-shaped scar just under his right nipple. "I was going with this totally daft girl who thought she was a witch. Called herself Raven or Raindrop or something. Anyway, she was trying to cast this spell on us for, like, everlasting love, and she dropped a lit candle on me."

"I can beat that. Dude, I can totally beat that." Hurley pulled up the leg of his jeans to reveal a line of scars crisscrossing his right leg from the knee down. "I went to Erica's house one time to pick her up, but my van wouldn't start. It turned out that I had left the car in gear when I parked it, so when her dad jump-started the engine, it started driving by itself. I dived into the driver's seat to throw the parking brake and turn the wheel because it was headed straight for her neighbor's Jeep. I was lucky-I just missed getting my leg run over. I just got dragged about twenty feet."

Charlie looked at Hurley in disbelief for a minute, then burst out laughing. "That just might be the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"Hey! You have no idea how much pity sex I got out of that," Hurley replied smugly.

Charlie tried to force the smile off his face, but he wasn't successful. "I'm sorry," he said, but he was still chuckling. "It's just...it's..."

"Come on, dude. You can't tell me you've never done anything stupid."

"Not that stupid. At least, not while I was sober."

"So you admit it."

"Okay, so one time we were camping and I accidentally poured vodka on the fire instead of water and singed off my eyebrows. But that's not as bad as running myself over."

"Dude, it totally is."

"Is not!"

"Yeah, it is. You'd look like a gnome without eyebrows."

"Who are you calling a gnome, fat boy?" Charlie shot back, but he was smiling. He punched Hurley lightly on the arm. Hurley shoved him back, and Charlie soon found himself wrestled to the ground. Before Hurley had quite figured out what was happening, Charlie had entwined a hand in his hair and was pulling him in for a kiss. A soft, tender, surprisingly pleasurable kiss.

When Charlie pulled away, Hurley just stared at him in shock. "What'd you do that for?"

"You've not gotten laid since you broke up with the band chick, right?"

"No..."

"Do you want to?"

"Well...um..." On one hand, Hurley had never really thought about having sex with a guy. Well, except for Orlando Bloom in _Lord of the Rings_, but he looked like a girl, so that didn't count. And Ewan MacGregor in _The Phantom Menace_, but he was Obi-Wan Kenobi, and that was just cool.

But Charlie's tongue was doing something to Hurley's ear that was sending shivers up his spine, and Hurley decided a third exception was definitely in order.

After all, rock stars do it with rhythm.


End file.
